


Prior Consent

by ozhawk, zathara001



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Sex Pollen, Soul Bond, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-03-10 00:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3269984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozhawk/pseuds/ozhawk, https://archiveofourown.org/users/zathara001/pseuds/zathara001
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma's a biologist.  She knows sex pollen is a myth.  Therefore, SHIELD's requirement for designating someone to tend to her should she be exposed to it is merely a joke.  The joke's on her....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Soulmate Shorts AKA The Crackship Armada](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2658407) by [ozhawk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozhawk/pseuds/ozhawk). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This first chapter is a reprint of [Chapter 19](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2658407/chapters/6161633) of ozhawk's Soulmate Shorts.  
> The Shorts are 1,000 words or less, soulmate pairings of various MCU characters mixed in with other Marvel characters. Many of them are obscure, many of them are cracky, and many of them are very likely never to be written again by anyone else ever.  
> That said, go read. You might find a new favourite ship!

Prior Consent

Jemma/Tony Stark

IronScientist

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a continuation of "Prior Consent," one of the Soulmate Shorts posted by Ozhawk under that title on both ff.net and AO3. She wrote the first chapter; I wrote, and she edited, the rest. It should be obvious, but neither Ozhawk nor I own any part of the MCU or the characters depicted therein - Disney/Marvel does; we're just playing in their sandbox for a little while. 

CONTINUITY NOTE: Takes place after Iron Man 3, after CA:TWS, and between AoS episodes 2.06 and 2.07, after Ward escapes but before San Juan.

NAMING CONVENTION: IMDB notes Henry Simmons' character as Alphonso "Mac" Mackenzie. Fan convention seems to be to spell it "Mack," though, so we've followed that convention in this fic.

* * *

This could not be happening. Everyone knew that sex pollen was a myth, a story used to haze rookie agents. There was no documented evidence of its existence. And Form 7A WF 83429 was a stupid joke. Jemma couldn’t even remember what she’d scribbled in the box that said ‘In the event of your exposure to such chemicals, who do you nominate as your preferred sexual partner?’ Because everyone knew sex pollen didn’t exist.

Which was obviously why she was now restrained to the bed in the medical bay of the Bus, zip-ties securing her wrists and ankles, thrashing and begging in a high-pitched voice for someone, ANYONE, to fuck her.

Thank God for Agent May, she would think later, who had taken one look at her as she staggered out of the small laboratory they’d just raided and dragged her straight to med bay.

“What happened?” 

“Booby trap. Aerosol – went off – don’t know what…”

They evacuated before anyone else was affected, boarded the Bus and headed home. Of course, it would normally be Jemma’s job to take blood samples for analysis, but since she was the affected party Bobbi took over. She took the samples and left her alone with May, who looked thoughtfully at the way Jemma was shifting uncomfortably around in her clothes, examined her dilated pupils and promptly zip-tied her to the bed.

“It’s sex pollen,” was all she said. “I’ll go check your form.”

“It’s not sex pollen, that doesn’t exist,” Jemma said plaintively. “Would you mind fucking me before you go?”

May gave her a wry smile. “I’m locking you in so no one can get to you and you can’t get out. Don’t want any serious mistakes made we’ll all regret later.”

Who did I put on the form? Oh please, God, don’t let it have been Fitz. Their friendship was on shaky enough ground. It had been so long ago, and she remembered snorting over the form and writing something flippant.

The look on Coulson’s face when he came to the door with May told her it had been a flippant answer. Oh no. Please tell me I didn’t write Micky Mouse or something…

“Jemma, we’ve been able to contact your preferred partner. He’ll be joining us in about twenty minutes or so. I didn’t know you knew – well. Won’t be too long, anyway.”

“Too long, can’t you fuck me until he gets here?” Jemma said desperately.

Coulson fled.

May grinned, came in and shut the door behind her. “Jemma Simmons, I never thought you had it in you.” She had a syringe with her, which she connected to the IV Bobbi had put in her arm. A mild cooling sensation washed over Jemma, temporarily reducing the intense, frantic need she felt. “There; that should help for a little while. Tide you over until he gets here.”

“Who? What did I write down, I can’t remember!” she yelped.

May’s smile disappeared. “Are you serious?”

“I thought the form was a fucking joke, I wrote something flippant!”

“Oh, shit,” May frowned. “Jemma, you’re no longer capable of giving consent…”

“Just tell me who!”

“Jemma, you wrote Iron Man. Who is Tony Stark, of course.”

Jemma’s eyes went very wide. “Oh my God.” She remembered now. It had been just after Iron Man’s first appearances. She, like so many others, had been fascinated with the anonymous hero.

“If you don’t want to…”

“No. I mean, yes. Look, he’s really attractive and I’ve been crushing on him for years, as you well know.”

“Mm-hm.” May was biting her lips, clearly trying not to laugh.

“He actually consented?” Jemma couldn’t believe it.

“We sent him a picture of you,” May failed to suppress a snort of laughter then. “I think he might be lonely now that Potts married Banner. He was suited up and out the door in about fifteen seconds.”

That, at least, was a little gratifying. Jemma thought about it while May left her alone. Tony Stark, Iron Man, had dropped everything, jumped into his suit and was zooming even now to her rescue. It might even be sort of romantic if the rescue didn’t need to involve having sex. May had told her bluntly that she’d seen this particular chemical before, and while it should wear off in about twenty-four hours, she would become dangerously ill unless she had sex. 

#

“She’s beautiful,” Tony Stark, divested of his armour, stood outside the medical bay and stared at the young woman inside. She wasn’t aware of him yet, writhing and twisting in the restraints. “You’re sure about this? I mean, I’m far from unwilling, but…”

“She identified you on the form,” May told him. “And now she’s in an altered mental state, anybody else touching her would be non-consensual. It needs to be you.”

“Well,” Tony shrugged. “Can I take the restraints off her? Not that it might not be fun, another time…”

“Yes, you can, Stark, just get to it. And don’t worry. You won’t be disturbed.”

“All righty then.” Tony took a deep breath and slid the door open. The pretty young woman on the bed snapped her head around to look at him.

“I hear you might need some help?”

Golden-brown eyes blinked surprisedly. “That’s not at all what I expected you to say,” she said in a precise English accent.

Tony’s mouth fell open. “But you were expecting someone to say that to you eventually, weren’t you?” he moved closer. Reached down to stroke her hair back from her face. 

Jemma nodded, staring at him unabashedly. He was even more handsome in person than the countless glossy magazine images she’d pored over in the last few years.

And he was her soulmate.

“Well,” Tony shrugged. “It might not be ideal to have to do this within a few minutes of first meeting, but hey, it might eliminate some awkward dancing around, hmm?”

“Shut up and fuck me now,” Jemma demanded.

“As you wish…”


	2. Chapter 2

It’s usually the other way around. Usually I fall asleep after (amazing, mind-blowing) sex.

Tony studied Jemma’s sleeping form. Then again, there were extenuating circumstances this time. 

The most urgent of those circumstances - at the moment, anyway - was that the woman sleeping beside him was his soulmate, and as little as he cared for rules and regulations, Tony suspected she cared for them a great deal. So he pressed a kiss to her forehead and rolled off the too-narrow exam table to get dressed.

Before he left the medical pod, Tony scrawled a note and left it and a glass of water where Jemma could see them when she woke up. Then he left the pod and went looking for the Asian woman who’d been his contact so far.

He found her in a lounge area not far from the medical pod. She looked up from the report she was reading. "Is she all right?"

"Sleeping it off."

"Good." She set the report aside and stood. "Thank you. She’s - special."

"Of course she is," Tony quipped. "She’s my soulmate."

The Asian woman - June? April? No, May, that was it- stared at him almost a full ten seconds before she spoke. "You’re kidding."

"Nope. Coffee?" He must be in a good mood if he were offering to get coffee for someone else. 

May stared at him another long moment before she said, "Wait right here."

She was gone before he could respond. Tony stared at her half a heartbeat before deciding that right here included any place where he could still be seen from where May had been standing and crossed to the coffeemaker and poured himself a cup.

Tony took a sip and grimaced. Gonna have to upgrade that. My soulmate will not be drinking substandard coffee if I have anything to say about it. Does she even drink coffee?

He reviewed what he knew of his soulmate - prim like Pepper, middle class British accent, surprisingly uninhibited in bed (unless that was just the effects of the pollen) - and concluded that he didn't have enough data to answer the question. More research was required.

But Agent May had told him to wait right here, and she reminded him just a little too much of Natasha Romanoff for him to actively disobey. Which meant for the moment he was at loose ends. 

Tony sipped his coffee and paced the lounge area, reminding himself that Pepper would not approve of him hacking the computers on board this converted cargo plane just because he was bored. Then his gaze landed on the report Agent May had left behind. He was just reaching for it when her voice interrupted him.

"Come with me."

Tony followed her through the aircraft, idly cataloging the modifications to the Boeing C-17 Globemaster as he walked. May stopped at a door that would not have been out of place in one of Stark Industries’ offices, knocked once, then gestured him inside. Tony took a sip of coffee, then ambled inside, and stopped short when he saw who stood behind the desk.

"Stark." Agent Coulson - Phil, he reminded himself - seemed oddly hesitant, and no wonder, Tony thought, when the man had let the world, or at least the Avengers, think he was dead for two years. 

"Pepper’s going to kill you," Tony said conversationally. "And you won’t come back from that one, Agent."

"Director."

Tony glanced at him, one eyebrow quirked. Coulson gave a slight shrug, as though to say the title wasn’t his choice, before he continued, "Agent May tells me Jemma’s your soulmate."

"Exchanged our first words earlier."

"Not the most auspicious of meetings."

"Depends on how you look at it," Tony countered. "I found it very auspicious."

"And now?"

"What do you mean, now?"

"Simmons is an invaluable, perhaps even irreplaceable, part of my team."

Tony took another sip of coffee. "She was mine before she was yours."

"She’ll make her own decisions," Coulson said. "I just want your word that you’ll respect those decisions, whatever they may be."

"I will if you will."

"This is no time for humor, Stark."

"I’m not laughing, Agent." Tony set his cup on Coulson’s desk and leaned forward, resting his weight on his fists. "Events last year proved that SHIELD’s motives and personnel weren’t always pure as the driven snow. Some reassurance on both sides is reasonable."

Coulson studied him for a long moment, and Tony forced himself to stay quiet under the other man’s gaze. Tony was accustomed to using money or charm or both to solve a problem (or, less charitably, to get his own way), but neither would work on this man, and both of them knew it.

"Of course SHIELD will respect whatever decision Simmons makes."

"And you, Agent?"

"I gave up my soulmate for the greater good - for SHIELD," Coulson said. 

Intuition flashed, and Tony let out a breath. "The cellist."

"The cellist. I didn’t make the decision lightly, and I still think it was the right one, for me. I wouldn’t ask Simmons to do the same, nor would I condemn her if she didn’t."

That would have to do, Tony decided. Coulson’s next words brought him back to the present.

"But if you hurt her, I’ll destroy you."

Tony grinned. "Back at you."

Coulson’s lip twitched into an almost-smile, and then he offered his hand. "Congratulations, Stark. You don’t deserve her."

That was probably true of pre-soulmate Tony, Tony thought as he shook the offered hand. But new, post-soulmate Tony would strive to be worthy of her. Starting now - when he should be by her side as she woke.

#

Jemma stretched when she woke, pleased to note that she was no longer restrained. She was also pleased to note that the simple movement didn't set any nerve endings afire. The worst effects of the sex pollen had worn off.

No, not worn off. She froze in the middle of the stretch as memory returned. Those effects had been burned off by some amazing sex.

With Tony Stark.

As if that weren't mortifying enough, Jemma had a vague memory of his first words to her - the same words that were scrawled across her right shoulder blade. But that couldn't be right. Tony Stark couldn't be her soulmate.

Could he?

Jemma opened her eyes to confirm that she was, in fact alone on the narrow medical bed. A wave of disappointment swept through her.

Lovely. Just lovely. Her soulmate had abandoned her, just as he had abandoned so many other women over the years. She'd expected - no, she'd hoped for better given the bond between them. Apparently that hope was misplaced.

With a sigh, Jemma sat up and looked around for her clothes. Her glance fell on a table near the bed. A glass of water and a couple of white tablets rested on it, along with a note in the same messy penmanship as was on her shoulder: Back soon. Take the aspirin, Doctor.

That he hadn't bothered to sign the note made Jemma smile. Her soulmate hadn't abandoned her, after all. But the aspirin was a good idea, she decided, and quickly swallowed the tablets, then drained the rest of the water from the glass, suddenly aware of how dry her mouth had become.

Probably from all that screaming.

Jemma felt herself flushing, even though she was alone, and pressed her hands to her face to try to cool the heat of her embarrassment.

There's nothing to be embarrassed about, she told herself firmly. The pollen aroused you beyond the norm, and even if it hadn't, sex is a normal, healthy function in all species.

And that was very healthy, wasn't it?

Oh, hush. And why is my conscience talking in Tony Stark's voice?

It smugly refused to answer, so Jemma turned to the next order of business, getting dressed. A glance around the medical pod showed her shoes beneath a small instrument table, her skirt neatly folded atop it … and the rest of her clothes strewn about in a wildly haphazard manner. She reached for the knickers that had landed on the sharps disposal box and was just sliding them up her legs when the door to the pod opened.

"Don't get dressed on my account."

Something about Tony's insouciant manner made Jemma's tone arch just like her eyebrow did. "Are you suggesting you're not satisfied?"

"Just enjoying the view." He grinned at her, and Jemma cursed the peaches-and-cream complexion that showed just exactly how much his words had affected her. Thankfully, he chose not to pursue it.

"I brought coffee," he said, offering her one of the mugs he held. "I thought it should have been tea, but Agent May assured me you drink coffee, so it's her fault if this isn't what you want."

"No, it's fine, thank you." Jemma took the mug, stared down at the dark liquid inside.

"Jemma?" Now Tony sounded uncertain, and something in her hurried to reassure him.

"It's fine, really, I love coffee."

"But -?"

"I'm just surprised," Jemma confessed. "Your reputation - well, you're not known for caring for other people much."

"I don't." The response was one of a man who'd long since accepted himself for who and what he was, and Jemma envied that certainty. "But you're not other people. You're me. A part of me, anyway, and I am very well known for taking care of myself."

"Other than imbibing mass quantities of alcohol at inappropriate times."

"Ooh, feisty." Tony grinned at her. "But you'd have to be, to put up with me."

"I'm not, normally. Do you think it's because of -" Jemma broke off, embarrassed again at the circumstances that had brought them together.

"The pollen? Could be. It could also be that the soul bond's already working on both of us."

"Working on?" Jemma repeated, frowning in confusion. "There's nothing that indicates anything changes when a person receives their soul mark. Or when soulmates meet."

"Nothing in the biology, maybe. I don't know, it's not my field. The physics are a different story. Do you always talk science in the nude?"

"Oh!" She'd completely forgotten about getting dressed. Jemma set her coffee aside and reached for her bra. "My clothes are all wrinkled now."

It was an inconsequential non sequitur, but Tony took it in stride. "All your fault. I was folding things, see? Then I let your hands out of the restraints. That's when you started throwing things. Everywhere."

"Oh, God." Once again, she buried her face in her hands. A second later, his hands clasped around hers and gently pulled them down.

"I didn't mean to embarrass you."

Even through her mortification, Jemma reflected that not many people ever saw a sincerely apologetic Tony Stark.

"It's not you," Jemma managed. "I just embarrass easily."

"Must be that proper British upbringing," Tony quipped. Then he turned serious again. "I'm not going to stop being me, which means I'm not going to stop saying things that might embarrass you. I won't always remember to apologize for them."

"It's lucky for you that I will remember to forgive you anyway."

"I'm very lucky."

The emotion in his eyes made her flush again, but this heat was from arousal, not embarrassment. Unconsciously she lifted her chin, just a little, and then his mouth covered hers.

His kiss was flirty and serious at the same time, and Jemma gave herself over to his skill, following his lead in the kiss, nibbling and tasting. She moaned softly, and Tony pulled back, smirking.

"That's way sexier than you were earlier."

Jemma blinked, tried to catch his train of thought. "Thank you?"

"Just means I like the real you better than pollen-infected you. You going to finish getting dressed, or are we going back for round four?"

"You mean I had three orgasms?" Jemma didn't know whether to be proud or embarrassed. 

"Relax," Tony said seriously, though his eyes twinkled with amusement. "I'm only counting the ones I was inside you for."


	3. Chapter 3

Jemma had kicked him out, then, with a reminder that she still had to analyze the pollen and try to synthesize an antidote. She'd overruled his protests that the old-fashioned treatments were still the best, and told him that she'd see him later.

With that promise in mind, Tony decided that staying on the Globemaster wouldn't be as confining as he'd thought. He just needed to find something to do to occupy him until Jemma had finished. He considered hacking the computers and reading her file, but oddly found himself looking forward to actually getting to know her, not her file.

When he left the medical pod, he discovered a dark-haired young woman, longer hair and softer features than Jemma's, sitting cross-legged on the same sofa where May had sat. Unlike May, though, this woman had a laptop open on her knees and appeared to be studying its screen intently.

"You get wi-fi up here?" Tony asked.

"Satellite feed," she replied without looking up. "Faster and more secure."

"Not that much more secure."

Now she looked up. "Really."

"Really. Or did you not know I hacked a helicarrier before the aliens invaded New York?"

"That was a helicarrier," she said dismissively. "And I hadn't worked on its systems like I have the Bus."

"You think you could stop me if I wanted to hack it?"

"Pretty sure."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "You think you can hack Stark Industries?"

"If I decided to."

"Betcha I get in first."

The woman laughed. "Like I can afford a bet with Tony Stark."

"Doesn't have to be money. How about information?"

"Information?" She gave him a curious look.

"When I win, you tell me one totally true, embarrassing story about Jemma."

"You mean besides what just happened?"

"That wasn't embarrassing," Tony declared. "That was destiny."

"And when I win, you give me Bruce Banner's phone number."

"You do know he's married now, right?"

"I wasn't going to ask him for a date," the woman said, then hesitated as if considering what to say next. "I have scientific questions and I think he's the best one to answer them. So - it's on?"

"It's on."

#

When Jemma emerged from the medical pod several hours later, she didn't immediately see Tony, and she was somewhat relieved by that. Not that she didn't want to see her soulmate, but she had something to take care of before she saw him again.

She found Fitz with Mack - of course; those two were almost as inseparable now as she and Fitz had been before Ward had dumped them in the ocean - tinkering with something mechanical she didn't recognize. Jemma waited until there seemed to be a break in what they were doing before she spoke.

"Fitz?"

"Jemma." It was hard for her to read his emotions since they'd nearly died together, but right now he seemed glad to see her. "Are you - all right?"

"I'm fine, thank you." Her response sounded awkward and oddly formal even to her own ears, but it was the safest thing she could think to say. 

"Glad you're okay," Mack said.

"Thank you." Jemma said again, this time smiling at Mack briefly before she turned back to Fitz. "Fitz - there's something I need to tell you."

"What is it?" Fitz turned the device he was holding between his hands. He wore the somber expression she saw so often these days.

"I - I met my soulmate." It was simply a statement of fact, but the fact of it still filled Jemma with wonder. Given her work in the sciences, especially the odd cases she'd seen once she joined SHIELD, she'd heard I hear you might need some help precisely twice. The first time, oddly enough, was when she'd met Fitz.

She'd been questioning a young woman in a tiny village, more like a settlement, really, outside Mae Sot, Thailand, after an outbreak of a previously-unknown virus had left most of its inhabitants dead or disabled- or trying to. Her lack of language and the young woman's fear of whatever had happened to her made progress difficult. Jemma's heart had jumped when she heard the words, but he hadn't reacted when she'd replied, "Only if you speak Thai."

Fitz hadn't spoken Thai, but he'd brought a machine that made the analysis go three times as quickly. They'd completed that assignment so successfully that once they returned to SHIELD, they'd been assigned together to work on cutting edge biophysical and biochemical issues. They'd been FitzSimmons ever since, and even though Fitz wasn't her true soulmate, Jemma had always felt a special kinship with him. 

Even now, after Ward and the uncomfortable revelation that Fitz had developed feelings for her that she hadn't consciously encouraged and her cruel - she'd tried to be gentle, but it couldn't be anything other than cruel - rejection of those feelings, even now Jemma still cared for Fitz and his feelings. It was that caring that had brought her here to speak to him in person, even if he'd already heard the gossip.

"I met my soulmate," she repeated when he had stood staring at her too long. The only sign that he'd heard her was that his hands had stilled.

Mack reacted first. "Tony Stark - Iron Man - is your soulmate?"

"Odd, isn't it?" Jemma kept her attention focused on Fitz even as she responded to Mack's question.

"You're not gonna forget the little people now that you're one of the one percent - sorry, the one percent of the one percent - are you?"

Jemma knew the question was meant in jest, to ease some of the tension building in the room, but still she flicked an annoyed glance at Mack. "I'm not. He is."

"You say so." Mack grinned at her, just a little, then fell silent.

Jemma bit her lip, hoping that - well, just hoping, really. Hoping Fitz would accept, if not understand. Hoping she could still work with Fitz somehow, despite his current limitations. Hoping he wouldn't come to loathe the sight of her. Hoping he'd say something - anything, at this point, even if that something was to tell her to stay far away from him.

His words surprised her.

"I'm happy for you, Jemma," was all Fitz said before offering Mack the device he still held and turning back to whatever conversation she'd interrupted.

Mack shot her a sympathetic glance over Fitz's head. Jemma gave him a brief smile in return before letting out a breath and turning away. Really, Jemma, what else should you have expected?

But there was no sense in dwelling on the past and Jemma had to admit, however reluctantly, that FitzSimmons was the past. She'd always care for him, but they could never go back to being what they had been, not with truth between them. They'd build something else, something different, but Jemma hoped it would be as good as what had been between them before.

That was one future she had to look forward to, to work toward. There was another, as well, and he was somewhere on the Bus, probably causing Coulson no end of trouble. That was the future she started toward now.

#

Tony grinned at the young woman - whose name, she'd informed him, was Skye - and shut down his pocket computer with a flourish. "Looks like you owe me one totally true embarrassing story about Jemma."

Skye scowled at her laptop. "Another two seconds…"

"You did pretty well, considering that antique you're working on."

"Nobody likes a gloating winner, Stark."

"I'm just basking in the undeniable superiority of SI's electronics. I'll send you a StarkPad and you can see for yourself. Story?"

"You're persistent." Skye set her laptop on the sofa next to her.

"It's one of my redeeming characteristics."

Skye laughed. "If that's what you have to tell yourself."

That made Tony chuckle. He shouldn't be surprised, he thought, that his soulmate was surrounded by exceptional people - Agent May (he reminded himself never, ever, to call her the Cavalry), Coulson (he'd never admit that aloud; Agent might find out - the man was creepy scary that way), the young woman sitting across from him, and a few others he hadn't met yet but whose files he'd accessed during the challenge with Skye - it probably was one of her defining traits, as it was one of his.

Still, he wasn't going to let Skye distract him from his winnings. "Story?"

"If I'm going to be telling stories, you can bring me a drink."

"Agent allows alcohol on board?" Tony rose to cross to the small wet bar on one side of the room.

"Coffee's fine, thanks."

Now that she mentioned it, another cup did sound good. Tony filled two cups and brought one to her. "So. Story?"

Her grin looked entirely too smug. "There's really not one."

Tony paused with his cup halfway to his mouth. "Seriously?"

"Seriously." Skye's expression was serious now, too. "Jemma's super-smart and gutsy, but I really think the most embarrassing thing she's ever done is not wear pantyhose."

"Is that supposed to be embarrassing?"

"My point."

"That can't be right."

It was Skye's turn to frown. "Why not?"

"She's my soulmate," Tony said. "How can she be my soulmate if she hasn't done at least one embarrassing thing in her life, and preferably one a year?"

"Maybe to counterbalance all of your embarrassing things?" Skye suggested.

"Points for assuming the universe is logical. I'm not convinced it is, but points for the assumption anyway."

Before Skye could respond, he heard, "Why wouldn't you think the universe is logical? You're an engineer." 

He'd only known her a few hours, but Tony recognized her voice as if it were his own, and he turned to face his soulmate and answer her question.

"I think assuming it is or isn't is a fallacy," Tony told her, then corrected himself. "Technically, it's at least two fallacies - an unwarranted assumption and an existential one. We don't have enough information about the universe to conclude one way or the other."

"A very large number of scientists who have prestigious awards would disagree with you," Jemma said. She crossed to the coffeemaker and Tony watched her pour a cup.

"Doesn't change the fact that I'm right," he said. A chuckle from the sofa made him break off what he was going to say next to focus on Skye. "What?"

"If there were any doubt you're soulmates, it's gone now." Skye rose, gathering her laptop in one hand. "Happy debating."

Then she was gone, and for the first time since approximately puberty, Tony found himself unsure what to say to a woman. So he contented himself with watching Jemma as she sipped her coffee, looking as awkward as he felt. He searched for something to say, found it.

"Ask you a question?"

Jemma turned startled eyes to him. "What?"

"Just how did you come to put my name on that form? Did you suspect we might be soulmates?"

To his surprise, Jemma blushed as hot-rod red as his armor. "I - I'd rather not say."

"Oh, now you have to say." Tony took the two steps that brought him next to her, resting his hand on the shoulder where he knew his words lay under her blouse. "You can't embarrass me, sweetheart, so just say it."

"I'll embarrass myself." Jemma looked surprised to have said that aloud.

"Tell me and I won't pester Skye for an embarrassing story about you."

"Why would she -?"

"Lost a bet. Come on, it can't be that bad." Except, to judge by her expression, it could be.

Tony set his cup aside, took Jemma's other shoulder with his free hand and turned her to face him. She wasn't looking at him, so he tilted her chin up with one hand.

"Whatever it is, it's okay," he told her. "It won't make me hate you, and it sure won't make us not soulmates anymore."

Jemma's expression shifted from - was that shame? Tony wasn't acquainted with the emotion so he couldn't be certain - to wariness. "Promise?"

"Cross my arc reactor."

"You don't have an arc reactor anymore."

"Sure I do. Just in the armor, not in me."

That made her smile, even if the expression was little more than a twitch of her lips. She was silent a moment longer, then spoke so quietly Tony almost didn't hear her. "I thought the form was a joke."

He must not have heard her, Tony thought. Because that didn't make sense. "You thought - what?"

"I thought the form was a joke." Jemma's voice was stronger this time, and now she met his gaze almost defiantly. "Because really - sex pollen? It sounded like a prank you'd play on new recruits, like hazing in a fraternity or sorority."

"Understandable," Tony said, and he smiled at her surprise. "Like a snipe hunt, only different. A rite of passage. Still doesn't explain why you picked me."

Jemma looked like she wanted to ask something - probably what a snipe was - but instead she lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "You'd just come on the scene. Every girl was fantasizing about you. And since sex pollen wasn't real, it didn't matter what I wrote, so I picked you."

She was still so obviously embarrassed that Tony felt a need to reassure her - thankfully, all he had to do was tell the truth. "I'm glad you did."

"Because you met your soulmate."

"Because I met a beautiful, intelligent woman who happens to be my soulmate."

"Flatterer."

"I don't flatter," Tony told her. "I can't flatter. I am genetically incapable of flattering."

"I don't think that's a genetic trait," Jemma said, but she was smiling, and Tony was satisfied that her embarrassment had lifted, at least a little.

"Simmons." That was Agent's voice, and Tony's satisfaction melted away as he turned to scowl at the intruder. Coulson didn't appear to notice. "Get the lab ready. We've got a lead on the obelisk. If we find it, we'll need you to test it."

"Want some help?" Tony asked, and if those weren't the most uncharacteristic three words he'd ever said, they certainly came close.

Jemma glanced at Coulson and Tony grimaced internally at her need for approval. It was part of her, but a part that needed tempering.

"Thank you, but no, Stark," Coulson's use of his name brought Tony's attention back to the present. "This is a SHIELD investigation."

"There's no more SHIELD," Tony reminded him. 

"Not officially," Coulson said. "Not yet. But what we do is still necessary." He turned to Jemma. "Wheels up in ten."

Jemma almost looked relieved, Tony thought, and that made him wonder what she was avoiding.

"If you want me to stay, I will, whatever Agent says."

"Oh, please don't." The words sounded instinctive, as though Jemma hadn't thought about them, and they pierced his soul. Was she tired of him already?

"I mean," Jemma continued, "that we're a team. We've done this before, and we know how to handle whatever comes up."

"I can offer some serious firepower, if needed." Tony wasn't used to asking someone's permission to do what he wanted to do. If this was how his soulmate was changing him, maybe it was best that he leave now, before she changed him too much.

"But you're not exactly … discreet."

That was true. "You're sure?"

"This is my job," Jemma said. "And being soulmates doesn't make us conjoined at the hip."

"Only sometimes," Tony quipped, and grinned when Jemma blushed again. "Okay, I'll go. But I'll be there if you need me."

"I know." Her simple confidence surprised him as much as her earlier words had stung.

Minutes later, Tony had donned his armor and stood with Jemma at the rear of the Bus. Its cargo bay was open, and he suspected that the aircraft would be rolling as soon as he left. Which made him want to delay his departure as long as he could. It was only out of consideration for Jemma that he was leaving at all, much less when they'd asked him to.

"Take care," she said, an oddly formal farewell, considering how they'd met.

"I will if you will," Tony said, and she gave him a tense smile. "Look, when you get back, take a few vacation days. Come to New York."

"And play tourist?"

"If that's what you want," Tony said. "But I was thinking we could get to know each other in the non-Biblical sense. Got the Biblical sense pretty much covered."

"You're impossible."

"One of my most charming features." Tony grinned at her, felt it becoming a genuine smile. How long had it been since he'd offered someone a genuine smile? He didn't know and chose not to dwell on it. "Be safe."

"And you."

Tony leaned forward and kissed her, gently. Then he stepped back, slipped the faceplate of his armor into place, and took off, trying not to think that his soulmate was heading off on a potentially dangerous mission and he'd been forbidden from joining her.


	4. Chapter 4

"How'd you do it, Pepper?" Tony paced the office of Stark Industries' CEO and his best friend in this life, Pepper Potts Banner.

"You'll have to be more specific, Tony." Pepper didn't look up from where she sat reviewing one or another of the dozen memos that came across her desk every day. Tony didn't understand why she bothered - he'd always ignored them, trusting that he'd learn whatever was truly important some other way.

"Put up with me off being Iron Man." Tony paused to look out over the Manhattan skyline, unconsciously rubbing at the scar on his chest where his arc reactor used to reside. "You knew I was doing something dangerous, impulsive and, knowing me, potentially somewhat suicidal, and you never had a nervous breakdown."

"You're not having a nervous breakdown, Tony." He heard the quiet slap of paper on wood, turned to see that Pepper had set aside the memo to study him. "You're worried about your soulmate. It's perfectly natural."

"I've never done this before."

"Had a soulmate?"

"Worried."

"Tony." Pepper rose from behind her desk, came to join him. "She's in good hands, you know that. Phil won't risk anyone he doesn't have to, and he doesn't do anything recklessly."

"It's not just Coulson. There's a whole team around her." And he hadn't met all of them in the short time he'd been on the Bus. Agent May was competently lethal, no doubt about that, and the young woman hacker, Skye, knew her way around a computer system almost as well as he did. Those two he wasn't worried about. Much.

But the others - Fitz, Triplett, Mackenzie, Morse, Hunter - those were the ones he hadn't been able to judge for himself. The ones he'd had to blindly entrust with his soulmate's safety.

"You read all their files," Pepper reminded him. "Twice. They're good people."

"Are they? Are they, really? There turned out to be more than a few bad apples in the barrel that was SHIELD. Even one on Coulson's own team."

"And that one didn't kill Jemma when he had the chance. He at least gave her a chance to survive."

"He won't, if I ever get my hands on him."

"Tony."

That tone in Pepper's voice had always made him pay attention, and now was no different. He focused on her, the grave expression that etched her mouth and eyes.

"Do you want me to get Maria Hill up here so you can ask her about the team yourself?"

That was Pepper all over, Tony thought. She understood him better than almost anyone else, understood his need to control what he could and learn as much as possible about what he couldn't. Jemma going into danger was something he couldn't control, so Pepper was offering him information from a source he trusted, at least conditionally. He appreciated the offer, and he considered it seriously.

"Not yet," he said finally. "Jemma's only been gone a day."

"A day?" Pepper stared at him. "God, Tony, you really don't have any experience with this, do you? You don't start worrying without reason until at least the second day."

"You know how much can happen in two days."

"Still. You can't just assume something's gone wrong without reason. Come on."

"Come on? Come where? You know I don't like spontaneous invitations when I'm not the one doing the inviting."

"Just lunch with me and Bruce. You can tell us all about Jemma."

"Haven't I done that already?"

"Yes, but that's never stopped you before."

Impulsively, Tony hugged her. "Thanks for giving a damn."

Pepper hugged him back. "I always will. Let's go drag Bruce out of his lab. I'm hungry."

#

Jemma straightened from her microscope, stretching her back. The rumble in her stomach reminded her that she had neglected her body too long. The data analysis had to take priority, but she was at a point where she could and, more importantly, should take a break.

The lead they'd found hadn't led to the obelisk, and it remained missing. What they had found, however, was almost as important: an old Hydra lab. Hydra had attempted to burn it down, but the building's safety code features had kicked in, leaving a lot of superficial damage but the interior had survived mostly unscathed. 

Jemma was glad that they had a clue as to Hydra's next plans, but horrified as to what those plans might be. The samples she'd been given were of human blood, each one infected or infused with either an approximation of the super-soldier formula that had created Captain America or another compound she hadn't completely analyzed yet. It seemed like blood in many ways, but it resembled no human or animal specimen she'd ever seen before.

In any event, the computers were collating and cross-referencing the data from the analyses she'd performed. There was quite literally nothing she could do to speed the process, and a break sounded good.

She took off her lab coat and stretched again before making her way to the galley. She was surprised to find Skye there, reading something on her laptop as she ate a bowl of cereal. 

"It can't be morning already?" Jemma opened the refrigerator and surveyed the contents.

"Only technically," Skye replied. "It's a little after midnight."

Jemma hummed an acknowledgment, decided to have some fruit and yogurt.

"How's it going?"

"I won't know until the computers finish their analyses." Jemma dumped some raspberries into the container of yogurt and grabbed a spoon from a drawer.

"How long's that going to take?"

"It's hard to say." Jemma sat across from her teammate and friend, took a bite before continuing, "Despite what the shows on the telly imply, you can't always get instant answers from a computer. If I had to guess, I'd say at least a day, possibly longer."

"And what are you going to do while the computers do their thing?"

Jemma shrugged and chewed a raspberry. "Sleep, probably. Maybe start another project, if there's one to be done."

"Not calling your soulmate?"

Jemma winced. "I should call him to tell him I'm all right, shouldn't I?"

"At the least." 

Her spoon suspended in mid-air, Jemma glared at the other woman. "Just what are you implying?"

"Your soulmate just happens to be Tony Stark. I'd bet good money he wants to do more than just talk when you call."

Jemma bent her head to take another bite of berries, knowing even as she did that the move wouldn't hide her blush. "It's not - he wouldn't."

"Wouldn't he?" Skye grinned. Then she paused, considering. "Unless you're still sore from -"

"Skye!"

"What? It's possible. I mean, you two were locked in together for almost eight hours."

"I am not sore," Jemma said, trying to regain whatever dignity she might have left. She'd known, of course, that everyone on her team knew what had happened to her. Gossip was impossible to quell even when SHIELD had been at full strength. Now that it was just the nine of them on the Bus, plus however many Koenigs there actually were, gossip would exceed the speed of light by several factors. Still, she hadn't expected anyone to speak so bluntly about it - to her, at least.

"Then I really have no idea why you're not already on the phone to him," Skye said. "If nothing else, let the man treat you to a massage, or something."

"I really don't -"

"Jemma, you hadn't had time off for a year even before SHIELD went to Hydra in a handbasket, and since then, you've been working nonstop, even undercover with Hydra itself." Skye jabbed her cereal spoon at Jemma, and Jemma instinctively sat back. "You're running on empty, girlfriend. Let your soulmate help you recharge those batteries."

With that, Skye stood, rinsed her bowl and spoon, and put them in the dishwasher, then headed out with a, "Night, Jemma."

"Good night," Jemma replied around another bite of yogurt. Skye was right about one thing, she thought. She needed to call her soulmate. 

After she finished her yogurt, Jemma confirmed their location and calculated the time difference for New York. Early enough that he shouldn't be in bed, but late enough that she shouldn't be interrupting dinner.

Her hand was halfway to the phone that was never far from her when she realized that - given that she was calling Tony Stark, who was not known for anything resembling a sense of decorum or propriety - this was a call best made in private. 

She headed for her quarters, grateful that it was late enough there was no one else around to notice how quickly she was moving. 

Only when the privacy lock was secure behind her did Jemma take out her phone and call Tony's number.

He answered immediately. "Jemma."

"Tony." And it still felt strange to call him that - just "Tony," as though she'd known him for years and earned the right. 

"Mission go okay?" The lack of specificity surprised her - but then, she realized, he was no stranger to secrets himself, from company confidential research to the Avengers Initiative.

"More or less. We didn't get what we were after, but we found something else that might be useful."

"And everyone's all right?"

She smiled at the Are you all right? he couldn't quite bring himself to ask, even though they were soulmates. "Everyone's fine. I'm sorry I didn't call before, but I was in the lab, analyzing -"

"Doing your job," he finished, cutting her off. 

"Well, yes."

"Hey, if anyone understands getting lost in your work, it's me." Tony sounded unconcerned. Jemma suspected that was a front. "How's it going now?"

"The computers are doing what computers do," Jemma answered. "I'm free until they're done."

"I can send a jet to pick you up. Or I can meet you somewhere."

Jemma smiled, grateful that their call was voice only. It felt good to be wanted for something other than her brain, at least sometimes. Then again, if he wanted her body …. "I'm not sure I'm up for round four."

"Not a problem," came Tony's easy reply. "Not that I don't want a round four or five or one hundred or what have you. But I get that sometimes you just need a break, and sometimes you need someone to force you to take that break. God knows, Pepper did it for me often enough."

Pepper. Jemma reminded herself that the woman was married now, and whatever relationship Tony might have had with her had changed as a result. She had no reason to be jealous of it. Still, there was an uneasy flutter in her chest, quickly gone.

"Jemma? Are you there?"

"Yes, sorry." Jemma gathered her thoughts, performed a quick calculation. "It's five hours to New York, at least, from where I am."

"How long to London?"

"London? I thought you'd invited me to New York."

"Yeah, well." Tony sounded almost embarrassed. "I had lunch with Pepper and Bruce yesterday, and Bruce suggested that coming to New York might not be as relaxing as you want. So, London, or wherever you want to go."

"You are turning every impression I had of Tony Stark on its head."

"Only when it comes to you. Where do I meet you?"

Jemma considered the question. "London isn't really relaxing."

"Too many paparazzi."

"I've never had that problem."

"I've always had that problem."

Jemma put that problem aside for the moment. "But London is a good place to meet, I suppose."

"Where would be relaxing for you?"

Jemma hesitated. What would he think of her response? He was Tony Stark, after all - what could he possibly find interesting about a town of ten thousand people?

"Jemma?"

Well, better find out now than later whether he could fit into her life. "Oakham."

There was a pause, and Jemma would bet Tony was typing the name into whatever computer happened to be closest, whether it was his own or someone else's. "Huh. Quaint little place."

"I went to school there, for a while," Jemma said. "It's quiet and out of the way. No paparazzi."

"Okay." Tony sounded dubious, Jemma thought, which wasn't surprising. That he'd agreed - that was surprising. "Birmingham's closer. I can meet you there, and we can drive to Oakham."

"You'll be bored," Jemma warned him.

"I'll be with you. Are you calling yourself boring?"

"Compared to what you're used to? Well, yes."

"No," Tony said. "Not remotely boring. See you in a couple of hours."


	5. Chapter 5

To Jemma's surprise, Tony was waiting when she emerged from the Customs queue at Birmingham Airport. He'd actually dressed for this, she saw, in a sport coat and casual trousers.

"You look - very nice," she said when she was close enough to speak without shouting.

"I thought about a Black Sabbath T-shirt - entirely appropriate, given the band started here - but Pepper and Bruce overruled me."

Jemma blinked, surprised. "You know Black Sabbath started here?"

"I'm a fan."

"So what else do you know about Birmingham?" Jemma asked, not certain whether she was serious or teasing.

"I know lots of things about Birmingham," Tony told her. He took her hand and turned toward the exit. "I know a disproportionate amount of cultural, scientific and technical breakthroughs occurred here, from gun locks to medical X-rays to Spitfires, and that's just the unimportant stuff."

"Unimportant," Jemma repeated. "Right. What do you consider important?"

"Other than Tolkien, of course," Tony corrected himself as they stepped through the automatic glass doors into an uncharacteristically bright day. He gestured her toward a sleek red Jaguar F-Type convertible where he helped her stow her small suitcase in the boot next to his leather duffle bag. A metallic-looking briefcase rested on the other side of the duffle.

"Other than Tolkien," Jemma prompted.

With a flourish, Tony opened the passenger door for her, and Jemma saw a box bearing a distinctive purple and gold logo resting on the passenger seat.

"Jaguar and Cadbury," he said.

Jemma couldn't help laughing as she took the box and slid into the passenger seat. "You're incorrigible."

"You encourage me to be." Tony leaned down to give her a quick kiss before he closed the door. Moments later, he was behind the wheel, his attention focused, at least momentarily, on guiding the convertible toward the M42.

Jemma was grateful for his distraction, however brief it might be, because it gave her a moment to adjust to his casual use of money. She suspected her mother might have called it an ostentatious display, and her grandmother would certainly have called it wasteful, but for Tony, it was just normal. 

This was the part she had to decide whether she could get used to, Jemma thought, being part of a world, a life, where this kind of thing was unremarkable. She'd waved away Mack's comment about the one percent of the one percent, focused as she was on Fitz, but now, confronted with the reality of it, Jemma couldn't help feeling uncomfortable.

Tony's voice interrupted her musing. "I booked us into the Admiral Hornblower."

"Fan of Forester as well as Tolkien?" Jemma asked.

"Who?"

"C. S. Forester?" Jemma prompted. "Wrote the Hornblower books?"

"If you say so."

"You don't know -?" Jemma broke off, shook her head. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you looked up all that information about Birmingham online - wait. Did you look it up?"

"No." Tony packed a world of hurt and disappointment into one short word. 

"So why is it you know about Birmingham and not C.S. Forester?"

"Because -" Tony hesitated, and Jemma snuck a glance at him. He looked almost embarrassed for the briefest of moments before he cleared his throat and began again. "Because for a long time, Stark Industries made weapons."

"One could argue that the Iron Man armor is also a weapon," Jemma pointed out. "But why does that matter?"

"Gun locks and Spitfires. A lot of weapons developments came out of Birmingham. My father came over here a lot for meetings and consultations. Sometimes he brought me. Being the precocious child that I was, I picked up a lot of information. Some of it even useful back then. Some of it's only become useful now that I've met you."

"Because you think fast cars and fancy chocolates are the way to my heart?"

"Aren't they?" Tony grinned sidewise at her and Jemma couldn't help laughing. "But it meant I knew what to ask for when I was on the way over here."

"Oh." Jemma lapsed into silence once more at Tony's casual use of money.

She wasn't naïve, at least much, nor was she ignorant of the way the world worked. She couldn't be either, not after working with SHIELD, especially once she was assigned to active field duty. She knew there would always be weapon makers, as long as there were humans who were spoiling for a fight, and often they would get rich. That Tony's father, and later Tony himself, had been two of those weapon makers who got rich was actually a relief - at least they had a sense of who the good guys were. 

No, it wasn't the source of the money that made her uncomfortable. It was the money itself - so very much money. Enough to buy several small countries, if he so chose.

What could one possibly do with so much money?

"Pretty much whatever I want," Tony said, and Jemma realized with a start that she had asked her question aloud.

"Which is what?" she asked. "Besides this and what I see in the tabloids?"

"Fund R&D into clean energy, improvements to existing technology, endow a chair in engineering studies at MIT - I should endow one at Birmingham University, too - pay people to do things I don't like doing. The usual."

"What about charity?"

"What about it?"

"Do you give to charity?"

"I buy a case of every flavor of Girl Scout cookies every year from every troop in New York."

Jemma waited, but - "That's all?"

"What else should I do?"

Jemma stared at him, surprised he'd had to ask. "All those people who are starving in Africa, India, all over the world… You could end it."

"No, I couldn't. Even if I gave all the money I have, and even if that money actually got to the people it was supposed to help - it would still be a disservice to them."

Jemma straightened, indignant. "How can you say that?" 

"Because it wouldn't give them the ability to take care of themselves, to grow their own crops, to become self-sufficient. Worse, it would remove the incentive for anyone to do so."

"Remove the incentive? How?"

"Who could produce food, or clothes, or whatever, and sell it for less than free - which is what donations are to them. You can't beat free, and only a fool would try."

"That's so - so -" Jemma searched for the right word.

"Realistic?"

"Cynical."

"Based on personal observation. I wish it were different, Jemma, I really do. I wish I could wave a credit card and solve all the world's problems. But people have to solve their own problems. I can't do it for them."

"But you could help them."

"I'd have to start by, at least, overthrowing every government that didn't put the interests of its people first," Tony said. "And then creating schools and infrastructure that would support that kind of effort. Even I'd run out of money before I got halfway through the first steps."

"So because you can't do everything, you're not going to do anything? That doesn't sound like Tony Stark."

"What do you want me to do, Jemma?" Tony sounded serious again, and from what she could see of his expression, he was serious. "Give me something concrete, not pie-in-the-sky idealism, and I'll do it."

"Doctors without Borders," Jemma said immediately. "They provide emergency medical care after catastrophic events, like war, epidemic or famine. Also for people who are ignored by their local health care systems. It doesn't get more concrete than saving someone's life."

"You're the doctor among us, Doctor."

Jemma giggled - wait, she never giggled. She cleared her throat and said, "You don't have to be a doctor. You can donate money, or you could provide transportation or support services. But it's a good cause."

"You sound like you have firsthand experience."

"I do." Jemma didn't try to keep the pride from her tone. "I spent a couple of term breaks volunteering with them."

"Only a couple?"

Jemma shrugged. "Then SHIELD recruited me, and life got busy, and interesting, and occasionally terrifying. I keep saying I want to go back, but I haven't yet."

"Okay."

Jemma blinked. "Okay?"

"It matters to you, so okay, I'll donate."

"Just like that?"

"Not entirely - I'll want to see their financials, make sure they're not out of balance on administrative expenses like some so-called charities. But if they check out, then I'll donate."

Jemma sighed. "You'd check up on Captain America himself, wouldn't you?"

"I already did."

"What?!"

"I had to - nobody's that altruistic, that self-effacing, that … that good."

"Except him?"

Tony let out a breath. "Except him. Just means the rest of us have to be extra cynical to counter-balance him. Do you want a nap before dinner?"

"Hm?" Jemma looked around, realized they were in Oakham. The miles had flown by while they'd talked.

"Nap? Before dinner?"

The question made Jemma yawn. She tried to stifle it. 

"I'll take that as a yes."

"No, it's not - I don't -" Jemma took a breath and started again. "I put in longer hours during a crisis."

"It's not a crisis now," Tony said, turning onto High Street. "Grab a nap while you can. I don't mind."

"I don't want to sleep the trip away."

"An hour nap before dinner isn't sleeping the trip away," Tony said. "And I can use the time to check out Doctors without Borders."

Jemma yawned again. That the sky was already darkening toward evening wasn't helping her stay awake. "Sorry."

"Don't be." Tony pulled the car into the park and came around to open her door. "After the Battle for New York, we went to this shawarma place, and we could barely eat, we were so exhausted."

"What I was doing wasn't anywhere near as demanding as that."

"Still demanding, you said so yourself. And you need to recover." He offered his arm and Jemma let him check them into the Hornblower and lead her to their room.

The room that greeted her was awash in calming neutral colors, from the sage green carpet to the sandy-colored walls. What drew her attention, however, was the four poster bed covered in a thick white duvet. She couldn't help the moan that escaped her.

"Come on," Tony said. "Let's get you undressed and into bed."

Jemma raised an eyebrow, and he shrugged. "Not for that, unless you've decided you're up for round four after all."

"I'm really not…. You're sure you don't mind?"

"I don't mind, "Tony said. "I'll hold you while you fall asleep, though."

"And you'll wake me in an hour."

"I'll wake you in an hour."

"All right."

Minutes later, Jemma had pulled back the duvet and slipped into bed, Tony cuddling up behind her, his arm draped across her waist, his beard tickling her shoulder when he dropped a kiss there.

Her last thought as she fell asleep was that she had never felt more protected - or loved - than she did right now.

#

This was something else he'd never done.

He'd never just held a woman and watched her sleep, never found contentment in holding her while she fell asleep.

Three days of being soulmates, and I'm henpecked already.

Only he wasn't, Tony reflected. At best, he was exploring what the soul-bond meant, building a partnership with his soulmate. At worst …

At worst, he was becoming a little less of an ass, a little more of a person.

Either way, it was good for him. Or Pepper thought so, and hers was the only opinion he could trust completely. He couldn't wait to introduce her to Jemma - the two of them would get along famously …

Which might not be so good for me. They're too alike.

With that observation fresh in his mind, and even though supersonic travel had never left him jet-lagged before, Tony fell asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Jemma came awake without opening her eyes. She stretched and yawned, feeling much more refreshed than she would have expected after just an hour or so.

Tony was right, a nap was just what the doctor or - wait, that's daylight.

Jemma opened her eyes, blinking against the sunlight streaming through the window of their room. Definitely daylight, definitely morning. She lifted her head, craned her neck to see the clock on the bedside table, groaning when she saw the time.

Not just morning. Almost time for elevenses.

Behind her, Tony still slept - soundly, to judge by his deep, even breaths that weren't quite snores.

"Tony."

When his name didn't rouse him, she shifted, rolling onto her other side so she could face him. She nudged his shoulder with her free hand. "Tony."

"I second the motion." Then Tony was blinking, eventually focusing on her. "Thanks for waking me - I was having a nightmare."

"A nightmare that involved a motion?"

"An SI board meeting that never ended." Tony shuddered in her arms.

"Speaking of never ending, sort of - you were supposed to wake me after an hour."

"If the rest of the universe were moving at near light speed, it would only have been an hour."

"Physics is no excuse," Jemma retorted. "We missed dinner. And breakfast."

"And we can't even blame the sex pollen this time."

"Tony!" Jemma knew she was blushing again.

"Relax." Tony pulled her closer. "It's downtime. There are no schedules on downtime."

Jemma allowed herself to relax into his arms. He was right, of course - but she'd had a schedule for so long that she wasn't entirely certain what to do without one.

And then she lost her train of thought entirely as Tony started stroking her hip, drawing lazy patterns with his fingers. She moaned, the sound so soft even she almost didn't hear it, and arched toward him.

"So." Tony nuzzled her neck, sprinkling it with kisses between words. "Can I interest you in an appetizer before breakfast?"

Oh, yes, please, Jemma thought, but before she could focus enough to say the words aloud, her stomach rumbled, much more loudly than she'd moaned.

Tony started, then frowned. "How long has it been since you've eaten?"

"I don't remember." Jemma tugged at his neck, trying to pull him closer. "A little longer won't hurt."

"Jemma." Tony kissed her before pulling back once again. "It matters - if only because I don't want you passing out from hunger in the middle of things."

"Tony -"

"Or think of it this way - you'll need something to build up your strength now that you're not all hopped up on sex pollen."

"Tony…" Her tone was somewhere between pleading and exasperated, and Jemma didn't think she'd ever used it before.

Better get used to using it. She didn't want to acknowledge that, so she reached for Tony again, only to find that during that brief moment of distraction, he'd already gotten out of bed and was grabbing her suitcase to put it on the bed. He opened it and then came around to perch on the edge of the mattress beside her.

With admirably bad timing, her stomach growled again. Tony just grinned. "Or you could look at it from my point of view. I don't want you distracted during round four."

Before she could respond, he leaned down and kissed her again, this one long and lingering and she wondered if maybe he'd changed his mind.

Then he was straightening away. "I'll be a gentleman and let you have the shower first."

"I'm sure that's new for you," Jemma said. "Being a gentleman."

"I expect I'll get lots of practice, thanks to you."

#

Tony paid no attention to the staff at the Admiral Hornblower's restaurant - at least no more than was necessary to get their table and place their orders. Jemma, however, noted every start, every stare, every whisper that followed them to their table - away from the window, as Tony had specified.

She supposed she couldn't blame them for staring - it wasn't every day Iron Man walked into a restaurant in a tiny country town in England. She just hoped that was the reason they were staring.

"What's bugging you?" Tony asked after they'd given their orders - full English for both of them. Jemma normally didn't eat that much, but her stomach had reminded them several times that it had been more than twenty-four hours since she'd had anything more than coffee while she worked.

Jemma gave Tony a half-hearted smile. "I'm just not used to being stared at."

"We're probably the most exciting thing that's happened here in years." Tony glanced around the centuries-old building that had been converted to a restaurant. "Maybe decades."

She didn't want to dignify that with a reply, however true it might have been. So she just murmured a "Thank you, that's lovely," to the server who'd brought coffee.

"Beg pardon, Mr. Iron - I mean, Mr. Man -" their server, a young man who might be working his way through school, stammered.

Tony flicked an amused glance at Jemma. With a tilt of her head, she willed him not to be rude to - she glanced at the server's nametag - Brian.

"Mr. Stark is fine," Tony told him. "What can I do for you?"

"An autograph? My sister's got your posters all over her room, and she'd love it if she had your autograph."

"Sure. Where do I sign?" 

Jemma smiled over the rim of her coffee cup at Tony's easy acquiescence. She didn't doubt this was an exception, made only because she was with him, but she allowed herself to relax a little, knowing that he wasn't going to make a scene.

Well, not much of one, she amended, as the young man appeared to realize that if he were going to get Tony's autograph, he had to have some paper for Tony to sign. Finally, he settled on one of the tickets on his order pad.

"What's your sister's name, Brian?" Tony asked. Jemma blinked, surprised that Tony had bothered to use the server's name. Then again, he'd been surprising her pretty much since they'd met, so maybe she shouldn't be surprised at all.

"Betsy. She's twelve."

"Twelve?" That seemed to set Tony aback, but he covered it quickly, scrawling a brief note on the ticket before handing it back to Brian.

"Thank you, sir. I really appreciate it."

"Just make sure breakfast is hot when it gets here," Tony said. Jemma knew he intended the words as a jest, but Brian's expression was as serious as if he'd just been assigned a duty to the Queen herself.

"Absolutely, sir. Thank you again."

Brian was gone even as Tony was waving him away. Tony looked up at Jemma, gave her a small smile.

"My life," he said.

"And I'm part of it now."

"If you choose to be."

"What?"

Tony took a sip of his coffee before answering, and if Jemma didn't know better, she'd think he looked nervous. "The soulmarks are a promise, a potential. It's up to the parties involved to make that potential real. Schrodinger's soulmark, if you will."

Jemma's lips quirked at the description, but something in his tone - "Do you not want to make it real?"

"I do want to. Very much." There was sincerity in his tone and expression, and Jemma felt something inside her relax, however fractionally. "But we have challenges, Jemma. I'd be foolish to assume you're willing to accept them."

"What challenges?"

"Starting with the obvious? That." He waved a hand in the general direction Brian had gone. "Happens all the time, and usually not quite as politely."

"You love it."

"Sometimes. And there's the age difference - I've got to be at least twenty years older than you. And then there're the jobs. Sure, there's a fully outfitted biochem lab at SI with your name on it - or there will be, soon as I make a call - but all your teammates say you're brilliant at what you do and you love working for SHIELD, or whatever's left of it."  
His concern was touching, and the fear that leaked through beneath it tore at her heart. Jemma took a sip of her own coffee, using the brief moment to gather her thoughts.

"Every couple, soul-bonded or not, has challenges," she said. "I think the bond gives us more reason to work through them than most, and perhaps gives us a head start in that we know that at some basic level we're compatible."

"And you're willing to work on the challenges?"

"Yes. Are you?"

"Yes." Then he grinned. "Especially if it involves more Biblical knowledge."

"Tony!" She was blushing again. She had to be.

"After breakfast, maybe?" Tony paused as Brian returned with their meals, placing them, Jemma thought, with a care usually reserved for precious objets d'art. Once Brian had left again, Tony looked up at her. "Or after you show me what there is to be seen in town?"

"Do you really care what there is to be seen in Oakham?"

"No, not really. But you care to show me, and I care about you."

#

He really was becoming a sap, Tony thought. At this rate, even Captain America would have nothing on him by the end of the week.

Still, it was a challenge, making small talk that wasn't for the purpose of persuading someone - whether that someone was a woman he wanted to bed or a buyer he was courting. This was small talk just to get to know someone else, and even more importantly, that someone else was his soulmate.

He tried. 

He asked whether she watched soccer - or should he call it football while he was in England? That made her laugh, and Tony wasn't really surprised when she said she did. He stared at her when she mentioned her favorite team, though.

"Who the hell is Aston Villa?"

"A football club in the Premier League," Jemma responded. "You mean you didn't hear about them on those trips to Birmingham?"

"Should I have?"

"They're based in Witton, and they have a fierce local rivalry with Birmingham City. Not to mention more honors than almost any other English football club." Then Jemma smiled. "And they have famous fans, including Prince William, Prime Minister Cameron, and Black Sabbath."

"Black Sabbath? Really?"

"Ozzy Osbourne, at least."

"Huh." Tony filed that bit of information away. "I'll have to watch them sometime. We'll have to watch them sometime," he corrected himself. "You can tell me who all the players are, and if there are actually any rules -"

"Of course there are rules!"

"- that make sense."

"That might be a bit more difficult."

Tony laughed. "At least you're honest about it. I've had people actually say to me that the reason Americans don't like soccer is that we don't like games where there's not always a winner."

"You don't agree?" Jemma asked.

"That's part of it, maybe, for some people. For me, it's that what's happening on the field is chaos. I can't watch it and intuit the rules. I have the same problem with basketball."

Jemma appeared to consider that as she sipped the last of her coffee. "I can see that. And it's true that some rules just don't make sense. Still, it's great fun to watch, and to have someone to root for."

"You can root for me now," Tony said without thinking.

"You have the whole world rooting for you."

"But they're not you." That came out with even less thought, and Tony wondered just how this petite brunette had gotten so completely past his guard.

Being your soulmate had something to do with it.

Tony shook that off and re-focused on Jemma. She was regarding him with serious eyes. Too serious, Tony thought, and wondered how he'd screwed up.

"There's something I need to tell you," she said.

"There's someone else?" 

"In a way." Jemma paused, appeared to search for words. "You're not the first one who said my words to me."

"Is that all?" Tony felt parts of him relaxing that he didn't realize had tensed. "That happens all the time. You know, people have words like 'hello, how are you' or 'nice to meet you.'"

"One other person said those words to me. Only one."

"And you and he -" it had to be a he, the way she was acting "- are together?"

"No. He wanted to be, but -" she gave a helpless shrug. "We're very good friends."

"And you think I'm jealous?"

"I think you should hear the truth from me, before you hear it from someone else."

That made Tony hesitate, uncertain what to say but certain that wasn't any flippant remark. Jemma wasn't used to that part of him yet, and letting that part have fun when she'd obviously taken a risk by telling him something important and intimate would be beyond rude. He wouldn't be that rude to his soulmate.

So he decided to be the opposite of rude.

"Thank you for telling me."

Jemma's eyes widened in shock before narrowing in suspicion. "That's it?"

"That's it," Tony confirmed. "God knows, as close as Pepper and I are, half the world thought we were soulmates, and we didn't even have half an exchange between us. It's okay if you have a friend like that. Better than okay, even - I know there's someone else out there who'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe."

He hadn't expected tears.

"Jemma? Jemma, honey, what is it? What did I say?"

She was struggling for control, some little bit of decorum that matched this restaurant - this restaurant that was now filling with the lunch crowd, Tony noted. She wouldn't want to break down in public.

"What you said," Jemma's voice was rough, her words spoken carefully as she kept the tears at bay. "He already did."

"Already did - what?" But Tony was a genius, and understanding came in the next heartbeat. "He already did whatever it took to keep you safe."

Jemma nodded. "And now he - and I - and -"

"Not here," Tony cut her off. "Too many other people around. We can go back to the room and you can tell me and I'll listen, I promise. No sarcastic commentary, either."

That last made her chuckle, as he'd hoped it would. She wiped her eyes on her napkin, set it aside. "I'll hold you to that," she said. "But later. I want to show you Oakham."

Tony understood. "Later" meant she'd have time to compose herself, to prepare for whatever she had to say. He already knew it wouldn't be good. The only question was how bad it would be.

However bad it was, he'd listen, and he'd hold her, and he'd let her cry it out if she needed to.

Yep, he was definitely a sap.

#

Jemma had been prepared to step out of the restaurant and into an overcast, drizzly day. It was England, after all; overcast, drizzly days were hardly anything new.

She hadn't been prepared for a barrage of flashbulbs and questions.

Instinctively, she turned away from the cadre of reporters, hiding her face against Tony's shoulder. She was SHIELD; having her image plastered across the telly, especially on Tony Stark's - Iron Man's - arm, couldn't be good for security measures.

Then she remembered the Triskelion and the information that had been made public, and decided that security measures were the least of her worries now.

Tony's arm had already come around her, and he held her close, steady and strong. Or, she thought, just accustomed to this invasion of his privacy.

"You realize I'm on vacation. I don't sign autographs while I'm on vacation. I don't usually answer questions, either," Tony said when the clamor of questions had abated. 

"Why did you pick Oakham for your holiday?" one of the reporters asked, either not understanding or not caring about Tony's last comment.

Jemma tensed, felt Tony do the same, though she was certain his smile never wavered. The question struck right at the heart of their relationship, her insecurities. What was he going to say?

Then his lips were against her ear. "What do you want me to say?"

She stilled.

He was giving her the decision - how to define their relationship, even whether to define their relationship. It was in her hands. 

She knew exactly how she would decide.

Jemma straightened, turned to face the reporters. She took a breath, felt Tony's steady presence beside her, and spoke directly to the reporter who'd asked the (invasive, even insensitive) question.

"He chose Oakham because it's important to me."

More flashbulbs, more questions. Jemma tried to match Tony's casual posture as she waited them out and one question sounded clearly. "Who are you, then?"

"Tony Stark's soulmate." Then some imp possessed her and she added, "Sorry, girls, he's taken."

"Very taken," Tony murmured in her ear, and she supposed she was blushing again, but that was all right. She was where she wanted to be.


End file.
